Wednesday, November 15, 2006

Layover problematics.

I am going to Scotland on New Years Eve to visit my daughter, my granddaughter, my son-in-law, various Scottish relatives of this little fam, and my new grandchild, whomever he or she may be. [Note: Magnus is likely to be the name of this little child if it is a boy, lately confirmed by the recently discovered fact that his great-grandfather's full name was Magnus James [something, I forget] Davies. My son-in-law wants to add Horatio to that mix. I shall keep my opinion of this proposition to myself.]

Anyway, in the seeking out of the cheap (well, cheapest, anyway) tickets, I ended up with a nine hour layover in LAX. This seems excessive for just waiting it out in an airport. My bff says I should come up with some sort of wacky survey and administer it to all sorts of people at the airport, documenting this activity with a camera. "(W)hat (W)ould R(obert) A(ltman) D(o)?" she says, which is a damn good question.

I am considering the aforementioned proposal, but would in the meanwhile like to hear the suggestions of my readers. If you had nine hours in L.A. (or realistically, about five hours, with the getting off the plane and the getting checked in for an international flight), what would YOU do?

3 comments:

Amelia said...

I maintain that someone could make a lot of money opening a salon/spa in one of these major airports. I could think of nothing better than getting a series of treatments in the airport spa. Consider: a massage, followed by manicure/pedicure and getting your hair done. Sounds like a marvelous way to spend some time. Plus, lots of old People magazines to read.

Dr. Write said...

I would make Sleepy E meet me at a bar close by for a dirty martini and some overpriced food. And maybe take a walk?
I like the project idea, but would, realistically, be too shy to carry it out. Maybe I would sit by myself and imagine, quietly, what each person might say if I had asked that question.
Or work on my novel. Or read People magazine.

Amelia said...

By the way, your son-in-law now maintains that he is only joking about Horatio, but serious about the Magnus... so everyone can heave a sigh of relief on my behalf.

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